


Too Much Of A Good Thing

by CreepingDawn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, F/M, M/M, Milking, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pedophilia, Rimming, Science Fiction, Tongue-in-cheek, Vaginal Sex, boys and girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepingDawn/pseuds/CreepingDawn
Summary: A man tells his friend about how much he has come to dislike his job. If you are reading this, you certainly won't feel sorry for the guy! I mean, how bad can a job be where you get to make kids cum?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 104





	Too Much Of A Good Thing

I'm kinda sick of my work. There, I've admitted it. Happy?

I realized it today when my co-workers took me out for lunch. We were celebrating the one-year anniversary of my hiring and they thought it a grand opportunity to celebrate. We went to La Hispana, that little Mexican place down the street? It was good, I suppose. I ordered the fish tacos.

I always order the fish tacos.

Hmph.

I think it happened sometime between the arrival of the salsa and me finally getting my plate when it dawned on me that I'm actually tired of the hassle of working for the Company. Is that even possible? This was supposed to be the best gig I'd ever have. Folks with our predilections would call it a "dream job" and would fight tooth and nail to sign up! And I'm tired of it???

I feel like I'm betraying my people or something.

But I'm sick of it.

Why? Well, I guess the excitement has worn off and the little things are starting to get to me. Things that wouldn't have bothered me six months ago now drive me bonkers. Every day, it's one hassle after another. One problem after another. There isn't any joy left, you know? I get home at night and just crash. Fuck it!

What does the Company do, you ask? Oh, sorry! I totally forgot that you have never heard of us. You'd think that working for a top-secret organization doing highly illegal and morally reprehensible stuff would instill in me a sense of covertness. It hasn't. I mean, I'm telling you this, aren't I?

Let's see. The Company. The Company. Well, we sex-up kids. Boys. Girls. Pubescent. Pre-pubescent. If they're between six and sixteen, we'll make them cum over and over again. Actually, our method is kinda cool if you like tech-mumbo jumbo. I can't tell you the scientific theory involved but the results go like this.

We got these guys roaming the world looking for kids in that six to sixteen age range. When they see a candidate they like, our guys use these really cool cellphone-like things to release these nano-bots that latch onto the kid and collect their biological data. I've heard our guys say "mind and body" a bunch of times (kind of a creepy mantra if you ask me) and I guess that's a good breakdown of what they're looking for. The bots gather all the physical parameters of the kid and download a complete copy of the kids entire brain structure. You know, to get their memories and personality and... um... their "themness?" Again, I'm not the tech guy so don't give me a look like you want more detail. I don't have it! All I know is that the gathered data is transmitted to our facility where it is stored in a super computer until we need it.

Eventually, the data is uploaded into the ROOM. You ever seen that science fiction show with the holodeck? Yeah, that's the ROOM. It's this place that creates whatever we want using force fields and projectors and holograms and stuff. I don't know how it works but I know it's really cool to see. One minute, the ROOM is empty. The next, there is a kid standing there and he or she is the exact replica of some kid in the real world. Hell, I've been told that, for all intended purposes, the two are THE SAME!

And that's when we sex them up. Well, ok, not right then. The twenty-five of us (we've got some technical title but everybody just calls us "the wankers") enter the ROOM first and unload our gear and stuff. Then our twenty-five holographic guests appear (we always call the kids "guests"). Then we sex them - mindful of the fact that we need to force a minimum of five orgasms from them that day (most of us hit five orgasms by the end of the first hour). Then, we can either continue to play with that guest until we grow bored or flip a little switch that gives us a brand new kid. Once the day is over (we get an hour lunch, I should mention), the program running the guests de-materializes whoever is in front of us at that point (for some of the guys, it's the same kid they started the morning with. For others, it's the eighth or ninth one they've seen that day) while transferring all the data their brains have created back into the computer.

Why do we need to force them to at least five orgasms? I have no idea. Ask management.

I joke. I joke. Actually, to be honest, I really have no idea why we collect this orgasm data. I've asked my coworkers and no one knows. One of the great mysteries, I guess. And one of the reasons I'm sick of it. No sense of accomplishment, you know?

The ROOM? Well the setup is about what you'd expect. The room is a pretty good size and there are twenty-five workstations. Each station contains a special chair that looks like what you'd sit in for a gynecological examination. You know, angled back with holsters for the feet and legs that leave the pelvis wide open and exposed? The chairs are actually well designed. Versatile, they can raise and lower and adjust a guest into just about any position I want. Each station also contains a box full of tools (dildo's and vibrators and lots of other things) and there is an assortment of odds and ends in some of the drawers. Every one of the stations has a TV so you can watch the news or a football game or whatever. Oh, that is one of the perks, I guess. We can watch TV so long as it doesn't interfere with our work!

Because the computer system regulates their artificial brain waives and body structure, we also get a lot of control over the guests themselves. On my control panel, for instance, I can wipe the kids memory so that each orgasm feels like the first one of the day. Most of us do this after every climax because its fun watching a cute kid "discover" orgasm for the first time five or six times in a row. Another useful control is the ability to re-materialize the kid's body structure so that all their parts go back to being pre-sexed. Some of us do this more than others. So, for example, say an ass has become kind of loose from a great deal of fingering? Some of the guys will punch the button and that asshole will become virgin-tight once again. Some (myself included), though, will let it get stretchy enough for us to insert big sex toys (and our cocks several times a day). This leads to some fun scenarios, like when the pre-teen girls sloppy cunt is being plowed by a huge dildo and she can't figure out how she got so loose because she's a virgin (hint hint: I've been loosening you up, sweetheart, for like two hours already). Or, when the teenage boy has watched himself cum five times in the last twenty minutes but cant figure out how he's shooting a full load each time. Yeah, good times. Good times. And, of course, when we get bored with the kid in front of us, we hit the button and a new one takes their place!

What's that? Oh no, we group them by category. See, Mondays are always pubescent girls. She may be ten or she may be fifteen but if she's got her period, she's a Monday kind of gal. Tuesdays are pubescent boys. Same sort of deal. Shooting sperm? Welcome to Tuesday. Wednesday is the day we get all the girls who haven't had their period. Thursday is all the boys who shoot blanks. Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are days off.

Oh, I didn't mention I only work four days a week? Must have slipped my mind.

Once in a while, we have the odd duck. A boy of fifteen whose little willy is the same size as the eight year old a table over. Or a girl of seven with boobs like watermelons and plenty of grass on the field. But, for the most part, you get girls of ten to sixteen on Monday and girls of six to eleven on Wednesday. Generally, you get boys of twelve to sixteen on Tuesdays and boys of six to twelve on Thursdays. Pretty routine, really.

OUCH! Why'd you slap me?? Huh? Yeah yeah yeah, I know. It sounds like a great job. But I'm telling you, it gets to you. It does.

Well...

Ok! Don't hit me again! Let me tell you about last week and you'll understand why I'm tired of the job, ok?

See, I woke up Monday morning with this terrible hangover because I'd been out the night before with some people. And when I say a hangover, I mean a hangmotherfuckingkillmenowheadsplittingvomitinducingneverdrinking againover, you know? I was dragging bad. Real bad.

And the worst part is that it's Monday. Look, there's nothing wrong with girls. In fact, several of the guys I work with look forward to Mondays most of all. They talk about "ripe snatch" and shit like that. Ok, fine. They love teen-girl pussy. It's just, I'm not so into girls. Oh, I do what I got to do on Mondays, don't get me wrong. And I kinda enjoy the younger girls on Wednesday. It's just... Well, Monday is my least favorite of the days.

So there I am, at my workstation at exactly 8am when the ROOM gives us the first batch. And what do I get? A fatty. I don't know what it is with people these days but we need to stop feeding these kids so much. I get more fatties that I know what to do with.

Her file said she was fourteen and from Mexico City. I didn't really care. With my head pounding, I wanted to get this over with. Her legs, which were spread pretty wide, gave me ample room to work and, as I was definitely not in the mood to listen to the girls that day jabber on about "Where am I?" and "Who are you?" and all that shit, I already had the girl on mute.

Oh, yeah, we can do that. Turn off their ability to speak by shutting down that part of the brain. Makes shit much better when you just need some quiet time. Unfortunately, most of the guys like to talk to their guests and the room quickly fills with noise. I put in earplugs. Fuck my co-workers.

Juanita, the girl, was your typical Mexican teen. Good sized breasts. Long dark hair. A snatch covered in thick coarse pubic hair. Overall, not a bad looker. Just kinda fat. I grabbed a small anal dildo, which was about the size of my pinky finger, as well as a large round vibrator and dipped them both into my lube bucket. Pressing the dildo at her tight brown shitter and nestling the vibrator right against her slightly open pussy, I turned both on at the same time.

She jumped, of coarse. They always jump. I wasn't sure if she'd had any sort of sex but really I didn't care to investigate. Instead, I slid the dildo about three inches up her ass and let the vibrator sink right up against her clit. She, of course, redoubled her struggles. Did I mention that? The guests always struggle. No appreciation that I'm about to get them off a bunch of time. No respect. Sigh...

I zoned out for a while and it wasn't until my hands were suddenly covered in fuck juice that I even realized the girl had cum. There she was, wailing silently and trembling through what I guess could probably be her first orgasm while a torrent of hot snatch juice sprayed my hands. I sighed. Glancing up, my computer monitor told me that was her first climax of the day.

All of a sudden, even with my earplugs in, I hear this loud "BOOM GOES THE DYNAMIGHT!" from my left. I rolled my eyes. Larry loves, I repeat loves, to fuck. And the idiot always says the same thing when he manages to get all four and a half inches of his cock into his guest. Boom. Goes. The. Dynamite. I mean, how cliché is that shit? I'd guess that Larry fucks each one of his guests and Larry likes lots of guests so I figure I have to hear him say that seven, maybe eight times a day. He's such a fucking tool.

Luckily for me, I had kept the dildo and the vibrator in place and Juanita, sensitive as she was, had a second climax right as the first was finishing. Grateful for small miracles, I kept teasing the little Hispanic slut for most of the morning.

Just before lunch, my computer registered Juanita had achieved twelve climaxes. Though I was still hung over, I thought it was time for me to have a bit of fun. Putting my tools away, I pulled out my favorite tool. My cock. All six inches of it. Glancing at Juanita, I actually had to laugh for a second. The little whore was a sweaty hot mess and her snatch was absolutely soaked. But her eyes! They were focused on my hard cock like it was a butchers knife and she was a sacrificial cow. Shit!

Ok, so she didn't want to get fucked. To. Fucking. Bad. I was going to fuck her.

Wait! Don't hit me again. Listen, I'm not that bad of a guy. Sure, I get guests off all the time who don't want me to or who don't understand what's going on. That's one thing. But if I'm going to fuck a guest, I feel like it's a little too close to "rape" if I do it when they're unwilling. The Company obviously thought so as well so, again, I hit a small switch on the control panel.

Juanita's face suddenly scrunched up in confusion and, as I watched, the girl's look of terror began to change. Her eyes went large. Her face became flushed. Her tongue slid out of her open mouth and she began to pant. Lust bloomed in the girl. Within a few seconds, she was flying-high uber-horny and, as her eyes settled on my cock, she began to whine in Spanish. Of course, I couldn't hear her (she was still on mute) and I don't speak Spanish. But I've been in this situation many many times and I know she was saying some variant of "Oh. Please fuck me. Please. I need it so bad" yadda yadda yadda.

Lining myself up, I slowly began to sink my fuckstick up her (admittedly) hot cunt as she squirmed and tried to impale herself on my member. Thanks to my earlier work, her pussy was nice and loose and my cock slid easily to the hilt. In fact, I didn't even meet any resistance! I guess the question of whether she was a virgin or not was solved, huh? Using my hands, I grabbed her nice tits and began to pinch her nipples lightly, giving her a bit of a thrill and giving my hands something to do.

I pounded her for a good ten minutes and was about to shoot my load when her pussy began to spasm and contract. My computer indicated she was cumming again. Good girl! Feeling the contractions on my cock and watching her face scrunch up in orgasmic joy sent me over the edge, of course, and I began to pump my morning jizz deep into her well-fucked womb. I leaned forward, my head wresting on the girls shoulder as I came. It was nice, especially since I wasn't feeling so well.

Then the bitch bit my forehead.

Luckily, she didn't have a very good angle and I was able to pull back away from her (and out of her) while she began to scream (silently) at me. Fuck her, right? I mean, I'd just gotten her off again and she's mad at me? This is the shit I'm talking about. Had to put a Band-Aid on too. Dennis, one of my coworkers, teased me about it afterword.

I went to the local chicken joint for lunch. It was good, but the corn-on-the-cob was cold. That afternoon, I had three separate girls. Used my hands to get off two of them and the vibrator for the third. All in all, a standard day.

I had paperwork to do first thing Tuesday morning. An incident report from the day before. I fucking hate reports. That got me into a bad mood.

My bad mood continued throughout the morning. Four boys. Two sixteen-year-olds. Two fifteen-year-olds. None of them were particularly "attractive" and puberty seemed a distant memory for all four. I like boys, don't get me wrong, but these four were about as much "boy" as I am. But, I did my duty and jerked each of them off to the required five orgasms. Used the computer to wipe their memory and to re-initialize their bodies after each one, though, so as not to have to deal with long refractory periods.

Fucking Larry was loud that morning - fucking a couple different teenage boys with his stupid-ass boom goes the dynamite crap. The boys wailed and cried, of course, as teenage boys hate getting fucked. But whatever. If Larry doesn't want to flip the switch to make them like it, who am I to judge?

Wait. Fuck that. Larry's a prick.

Lunch was Thai. Enough said.

I got a huge treat early that afternoon, though. There, in front of me, was this gorgeous thirteen-year-old Swedish boy. Long blond hair. Clear blue eyes. A smattering of freckles. A cute little cock - maybe four inches when hard (I was proven right a short time later) A bombshell, no doubt.

I took the kid off mute, of course, and asked him if he spoke English. In the cutest little accent ever, he said something like "Ja, I speak English. Ver am I? Who er you?"

Perfect. I didn't bother to answer him, of course, as I rarely do. But I did decide I deserved a treat. Pulling my chair up close, I sat down and pushed my face right up to his balls. They were hairless, I found out, though the boy was clearly into puberty. He had that earthy boy smell I like and, happily, I began to suckle and lick his balls.

He jumped, of course. Didn't I mention they always jump? He kept asking question. Told me to stop several time. Pleaded that he wasn't "a gay." I kept on licking his balls, happy as a clam.

Every boy gets hard when his balls are licked. Gay. Straight. Doesn't matter. Eventually, the boy's little cock was standing up proudly and I slid a special vibrator over the hard member. It's a nice little vibrator; a sleeve like contraption whose vibrating tip sits snuggly against a boys cockhead. When I slipped it on him, boy actually moaned. He moaned even louder when I turned it on.

Then I sat back, ready for another bit of fun.

Shifting his legs so his feet were right next to my face, I scanned down his body. His eyes were locked onto mine and I could tell he was confused. I smiled and gently licked his right foot from heel to toe; my tongue sliding lazily across the arch of his perfect foot. He shuddered. I shuddered. Nothing quite like boy feet!

After licking the arches for a few minutes and listening to his breathing get louder and louder, I began to suck his toes. Swirling my tongue around the digits eagerly, I shoved my tongue in and out of every available crevice and savored the unique boyflesh. It was a lot of fun, no doubt. Eventually, with my mouth eagerly suckling one of the big toes, the boy grunted and came. Blast after blast of teenboy cum shot out of his throbbing vibrator-encased cock and landed on his taut tummy as the boy groaned unabashedly.

Wonderful!

I spent most of the rest of the afternoon with the boy. I spread his legs and ate his little shitter until he came again. I suckled his nipples while I jerked him off to another cum. I reset him (after three, it would start to take longer to get him off) and sucked his cock to two rapid explosions. I'll tell you, he was a real treat.

Just before I was about to fuck him, though, I got called into the office to deal with another issue. Payroll was having a problem. I fucking hate payroll. Yeah, I make one hundred and twenty thousand dollars a year but sometimes I'd give it all up for payroll to just get off my ass.

Then, just as I'm walking back into the ROOM, I hear BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE and see mother-fucking Larry shoving his prick in and out of my boy. MY BOY! Fucking Larry, the jackass that he is, decided that since I was away, he could get a piece of the nice boy-ass I was about to plunder.

I was so pissed. I sucked the kid off while Larry fucked him (after, of course, flipping the switch to make his uncomfortable first fuck into a much more pleasurable one) but I stared daggers at Larry the whole time. Even the kids cries of "Fuck me! Fuck me please. My az. Stick it in my az!" didn't get me like it normally would.

I was pissed all night.

It was Mustafa's birthday on Wednesday and there was a giant birthday cake for him when we arrived that morning. Now, don't get me wrong, I like cake. Sure, it was a chocolate cake and chocolate doesn't appeal to me as much but I still was happy to indulge my sweet tooth. So, for the first bit of work, all of us stood around eating the cake and generally shooting the shit. And cake for breakfast? Great.

And that's when a few of us had a brilliant idea. Icing is great, right? For the most part, so is pre-pubescent pussy. What if we combined the two???

We work really close to a grocery story so Sammy went and picked up a few of those pre-packaged icing tubs. Made it back fast, and passed the things out. I, of course, got a buttercream (my favorite) and went to my terminal.

There, ready to go with her legs spread wide open, was this cute little seven-year-old Russian. She started to jabber at me but I quickly muted her and set up my station. Soon, I was ready to go.

Dipping my finger in the frosting, I brought it up to her lips and slid my finger into her mouth, giving the sweet girl a sweet treat. She wasn't pleased, though, and bit me. Ungrateful, but what can you do? I was in a good mood so it didn't really bother me, though I would have preferred a vanilla cake earlier.

Her little cunt was totally bald and the vaginal lips were parted ever so slightly, revealing the pink interior. Nice. Though I'm not so much into girls, I could definitely see the appeal. Taking a scoop of icing, I gently spread it all around her pussy and slowly worked a little bit inside. The girl jumped at the contact but... Oh, I'd already said they all jump? Well, they do!

Then I dove in and began to go to town on her icing covered cunny. I licked the outer ridges. I slurped the interior. I tongued her tiny clit. It tasted wonderful! My mouth was full of sugar and sweetness. I was in heaven!

I swished the sweetness in my mouth and dribbled it back over her sex, letting the gooey mixture slide down toward her asshole before swooping it in and lapping at her little icing-covered shitter. Over and over I did this, adding icing directly onto her cunt or asshole so that the sweet sugar rush never ended.

I could feel the girl vibrating but I didn't pay her much attention. Eventually, though, I needed a short break so I sat up and cracked my back, taking a drink of water as I surveyed the little girl. She was a mess! Her hair was frizzy and her cheeks were flushed and her tongue was hanging out of her mouth. "Odd," I thought to myself, checking the computer.

Seven orgasms! The little slut had gone through seven distinct orgasms! I'd been eating her out vigorously for nearly an hour and hadn't even noticed her cumming! Wow!

I traded the little minx out for another girl shortly after that. The new girl was a beautiful black ten-year-old from the Sudan and I ate her ass and cunt just as vigorously as I had the first girl, soaking her pelvis in yummy icing of course. This time, though, I paid more attention to her reactions as I jackhammered my tongue against her sensitive clit and it became obvious to me every time I drove her into a climax. This girl, much to my delight, had plenty of pussy juice flowing freely from her sex so the salty earthy taste of her juices mixed wonderfully with the sweet sugar rush I was indulging in.

Two more girls got their icing-covered pussies eaten that day and I had a grand old time.

Puked my guts up around 8pm that evening. Shouldn't have eaten a whole carton of icing. Felt miserable all night. Puked again around 3am.

I missed the first half of Thursday because I was still a little sick from the previous night. But I love Thursdays so I ended up getting to the ROOM around 1pm. My bosses don't care if you come in really late (or leave really early). They're pretty chill like that - so long as you give them a decent excuse.

Of course, I enter only to hear Larry yell "BOOM GOES THE DYNOMITE" as he slides his prick into some squirming eleven-year-old. He's such an ass. Walking over to my station, I'm pleased to discover a cute nine-year-old boy from Argentina is ready for me, his arms above his head and his legs spread wide open. Wow! I got to tell you, his pits were absolutely beautiful! The boy had a golden tan all over his body and his skin was totally flawless. I went to town.

For a short while, all I did was lick the kid all over. His armpits, his neck, his chest, nipples, thighs, feet, hands, cock, and asshole. He tasted like cinnamon and wiggled the whole time, laughing because I think my tongue was too ticklish. I like it when they're ticklish. Taking out a long feather, I sat back and proceeded to tease the boy's sensitive flesh while he squirmed and laughed hysterically. Meanwhile, his little boner had become totally hard and, with my right hand using the feather, my left hand grasped the little tool and began to stroke it up and down.

I could tell the kid had no experience with sex because his reaction kept flickering between the tickling of the feather and the sex feelings in his cocklett. He'd be laughing hard, then moaning, then laughing again. Eventually, though, his eyes shot open and he looked at me hard, his pleading face taunt with new feelings. A groan began to roar in his throat. I knew, at that point, he was about to cum and redoubled my efforts.

He shook. He went taunt. His eyes glazed over. He began to shake. He came. Hard. His little boyhood pulsed vigorously in my hand. It was wonderful.

I liked the tickle game and that became my theme for the rest of the day. My last boy was a small English six year old who squealed and squealed as I used my hands to tickle his exposed boypits. With a child-sized dildo vibrating aggressively in his little asshole and my mouth busily bobbing up and down on his tiny boyhood, he filled the room with the most amazing cry when his first ever kiddie-cum rushed through him. Half laughing squeal, half moaning groan. Several people, Larry included, actually came over and told me that the boys first cum sounded incredibly hot and asked me how I managed it. I'm a rockstar. What can I say?

Now, at this point, the day's almost over. In fact, several of my co-workers had actually begun packing up their stuff. The problem is that I haven't actually gotten off yet. Oh, there were a couple of times I was close and a few of the boys tempted me. But now, with this cute little English boy having just cum for the sixth time in the last hour and a half, I myself need to get off. Now, it's about me.

Luckily, for the last half an hour, I'd been using a six-inch dildo to slowly fuck the kid while my tongue played with his sensitive little cock-head. That, coupled with the fifteen minutes I'd spent rimming the kid enthusiastically prior to the insertion of the dildo meant that his asshole was prepped and ready to receive my own six-inches. I dropped my pants, lubed my cock, and flipped the switch to make the kid totally horny.

"Listen, kiddo" I said as I slowly stroked myself. "If I shove this is your bottom, you'll get good feelings. Do you want good feelings?"

The boy shook his head up and down like a maniac, his eyes glued to my member and his body twitching in anticipation.

"Oh! Oh mister! I need it in my bottom! I need it! Please! OHH! OHH! PLLLEEAAASSEEE!" he wined, unable to understand the feelings coursing through him but knowing that relief was only one thrust away. I flipped the mute button and thrust forward, shoving all six inches deep into his pert bottom.

In. Out. In. Out. I fucked the kid in long luxurious strokes, enjoying the tight heat surrounding my cock and the velvety goodness of his tight anal cavity. They boy was wailing silently in delight as my hands began to dance all over his body. I almost grabbed his erect little boyhood but decided to leave it be. Let the kid get off on me teasing his nipples and my cock pounding his prostate. He'll love it.

Harder and faster I began to thrust, using my hips to put power behind my fucking. My fingers stroked his nipples and I dove in for a moment and shoved my tongue into his mouth, licking all around before pulling out and increasing my speed. I could tell from the way the boy thrashed that he was about to cum again. I flipped the mute off.

"Those good feelings! You about to get them?" I grunted as my cock flew in and out of his shitter.

"OHH! OHH! ITS HAPPENING! UGGH! UUGGHHH!!!" he screamed, his body tensing in pre-climax.

"Cum for me kiddo! Cum for me!!!" I yelled, my own balls boiling in near orgasm as I jackhammered the kid with all my strength.

The kid came, his body suddenly seizing as he wailed "AYYEEEEEYEEEEEE!!!!"

His hot asshole tightened and I knew, from long experience, that I was ten thrusts from cumming.

My head flew back.

Eight thrusts.

I let out a moan.

Six thrusts.

I drew in a big breath to roar in climax. Hell, I was even thinking about yelling "boom goes the dynamite."

Four thrusts.

The boys body and the chair and all solid matter in front of me blinked out of existence as my third thrust drove forward and met no resistance. I tumbled onward, my momentum unchecked as I landed ungracefully on the floor of the now totally empty ROOM.

"What the FUCK?" I screamed, before noticing that the clock on the wall read 5:30pm...

What? Why is 5:30pm important? Well, as you might have guessed, the ROOM shuts down at 5:30pm. So, there I was, in an empty ROOM, with a hard cock about to explode and no one to fuck...

Yeah. Yeah. I didn't get off right then. In defeat, I pulled my pants back on and had to finish with my hand twenty minutes later when I got back to my apartment.

Yeah, I felt kinda stupid. Fuck them though; they should leave the room running past 5:30pm, right? I mean, come on!

So there you have it. That was my week last week. Can you now understand why I'm sick of my work?

You can't? Why not? Didn't it sound awful?

Ouch! Hey! Why did you slap me?


End file.
